This is why we have Rules
by gothfeary
Summary: Wonder what happened to warrent a rule up on the list of things not to do at the SGC? This is why. A series of drabbles, one shots and ficlets. Rating will vary from chapter to chapter.
1. Rule 10

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 10

**Series**: This is why we have Rules

**Rating:** T for some swearing and explosions.

**Summery:** Rule 10) Grenades are not toys. DO NOT play catch with them. a) Knock it off SG-3!

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N:** Several people have urged me to write the story behind some of the rules from "Things Not to do at the SGC." I'm not going to write a story for all 200 (and counting!) rules, just my favourites. So, here we go! Oh, I also know that it may seem like I took the names of two members of SG-1 to make someone new, but I actually named this character after one of my best friends, who just happens to be a _bit_ of a pyro.

---

"SG-3 you have a go." Gen. Landry looked out onto the Gate Room from the Control Room as SG-3 left on their first mission since their archaeologist had transferred to Atlantis.  
Watching the now three-man team step through the event horizon to P59-626, he heaved a small sigh. There was a mountain of personnel files to go through, waiting on his desk. After all, protocol was protocol, and every first contact team needed a civilian expert.

_Meanwhile on P59-626..._

"Captain, secure the perimeter. Lieutenant Hebert and I will set up camp." Colonel Blair McEnvoy looked over his 2IC with tired green eyes; he had been doing double paper work since Jeff left for Atlantis. Captain Cameron Jackson grinned that idiot grin he was so well known for, and with a mock salute, turned on his heel to walk the standard perimeter around the gate.

"Have fun Dave!" he called over his shoulder as Dave and Blair headed for the clearing the MALP had scouted out as base camp the day before. Cameron knew Blair was going to make Dave do all the heavy lifting.

It had taken the better part of 4 hours, but the three men had set up the base camp that would serve for them and a team of botanists who were coming through the gate later that evening.  
"I'm bored," bemoaned Lieutenant Dave Hebert from his resting spot beneath a nearby tree, "man, do I hate the quiet planets."

"What, you want to be ambushed, taken prisoner and tortured to death time and time again?" The wry sarcasm dripped from his commanders voice. "Cuz' me, not so much." Blair shot a quick glare out from under the brim of his hat.

"Well, it is boring, Sir. Not a single thing for us to do!" Cameron hated to admit it, but Dave was right. Silence fell over the small group for a moment, when suddenly, Dave shot up.

"Let's play catch or something guys." The sparkle in his blue eyes, and excitement of breaking the monotony quickly caught on to the other two. The grin that had broken out on Captain Jackson's face faltered slightly as he looked around for an object to use. There was _nothing_. Not a single rock, not a single piece of equipment that weighed less than 5 pounds or cost less than five thousand dollars.

"Uh, guys slight problem here."

"What the hell are we gonna use?" Colonel McEnvoy had even found himself caught up in the promise of relieving the boredom.

Dave thought for a moment before reaching for his pack and rapidly digging through it. After a moment of hunting and cursing, he had found what he was looking for. Proudly, he held up his treasure. It was palm sized, rounded, and black. With a shiny metal piece by a handle…

"A grenade! Are you fucking serious?" shouted his team mates.

"Why the hell not? It's not like the pin can just fall out!" Dave shot back, "plus I'm bored!"

He did have a point.

Everything was going fine, the worry about playing with explosives having worn off in the first 10 minutes. That is, until the end of the first hour. Lieutenant Hebert had moved on to trick throws roughly 20 minutes into the game. In the process of throwing the grenade around his back in the direction of Captain Jackson, he noticed something cool and metal was around his pinkie.

"The pin came out. Hit the deck!" he screamed at Cameron. Cameron turned dead white and dived to the left, out of the way of the incoming explosive.

"Oh _**SHIT!"**_

Col. McEnvoy dropped to the ground right as the little black grenade landed in the sleeping tent. And somewhere out from behind the cloud of flying debris and smoke came the dry sound of Col. McEnvoy's voice, "Dave, you are so freaking dead when we get back to Earth."

**_-End-_**


	2. rule 20

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title**: # 20

**Series**: This is why we have Rules

**Rating**: T for some swearing and explosions.

**Summery**: Rule 20) If you don't know what the button does DON'T PUSH IT!

**Spoilers**: None, unless you don't know who Ronon is. Then Yes, some Season 2 Atlantis spoilers.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into!

**A/N:** If you guys think this is just crap, tell me. I have no idea if I'll keep this up.

-----

"Dr. Weir, this is Col. Sheppard." John pushed the button on his ear piece, activating the com piece that sat there.

"Go ahead John," her reply was slightly distorted by the interference from Rodney's equipment.

"We reached the lab; we're just setting up now." From somewhere off in the corner came a muffled grunt as Teyla and Ronon lugged a crate out of the way of the door.

"Alright, keep me posted. Weir out." The distinct click sound in his ear let him know they were on their own now.

"Well, Rodney, you go play nice now. I'll be over here." With a smug grin he walked over to the crate Teyla and Ronon had brought in, and sat down.

"Is that all you do? Just sit here and do nothing?" Rodney snarked. "Give me a hand here, John. This stuff is heavy."

"Why?" The innocent look on his face was countered by the evil gleam in his eyes. "Last time I did you yelled at me. I was hurt"  
A snort from behind him let everyone know of Teyla's disbelief.

"Then do something! For once." Rodney stuck his head deep into the crate before him, searching in vain for the one piece of equipment he inevitably forgot in his personal lab.

"Some one hasn't eaten recently!" John quipped in a very annoying sing-song way.

"Bite me," came the muffled reply from a crate with legs.

"You should be careful to whom you speak, Dr. McKay. A Wraith would take you up on your offer." Teyla carefully hid her amusement over the two men bickering before her. Only to be rewarded with glare from over the wooden edge.

"Fine, you want me to help, I'll help," Setting down his P-90, John walked over to Rodney's side, "what should I do?"

Looking around, Rodney saw a panel of shining crystal buttons, just waiting to be pressed. A wild glint flashed in his eyes for just a second, as a smirk spread over his once scowling face, "You have the ATA gene, figure out what that panel does."

Following Rodney's gaze, John headed over to the panel. His finger lightly skimmed the surrounding metal, turning to Rodney; he cocked his head and questioned, "And get blamed for blowing us up? Hell no!"

"What are you, scared?"

"Am not."

"Yes, yes you are."

"I am not! I'm just not suicidal!"

"Dare you." Out of any two words, why did Rodney have to say those two, thought Teyla. John Sheppard never refused a dare.

"Fine." Without a moment of hesitation, he pressed down on the large center crystal.  
Ronon and Teyla shut their eyes and waited with baited breath. A blinding light filled the room and dissipated in a second, as if it was never there.

"See." If at all possible, John was just aa smug as Rodney when one of his theories proved right. Teyla cracked a single eye. Ronon just waited for the other shoe. Suddenly another flash, this time from the transporters system, engulfed the room, and Rodney and John were gone.

"We had best go to the control room," Ronon said. Picking up John's forgotten weapon, Teyla followed her team mate out of the room, wondering what John could have possibly done this time.

"Care to explain?" asked Dr Weir, arms crossed and her tapping foot were demanding an explanation. A very pink Dr. Weir. Looking over the control room with wide eyes, John and Rodney took in the pink gate technician, the pink com officer, the pink security staff…

Sheepishly, John finally spoke, "Umm… oops?"

_**-End-**_


	3. Rule 22

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 22

**Series:** This is why we have Rules

**Rating:** T for some swearing and explosions.

**Summery:** Rule 22) Pets are not to be acquired off-world. 400 words.

**Spoilers**: None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N:** Yes, I stole a Buffy character name! I couldn't think up anything that sounded "military" enough!

_-italics-_ for emphasis or internal thoughts.

- - - - -

"Sir, you better come see this!" Lt. Jennifer Hailey's voice rang out from across the camp. Major Lyle stood up, set down his MRE (macaroni, which tasted like chicken for some reason) and wove his way through the tents of SG-11 to the edge of the camp. Sitting calmly in Lt. Hailey's lap sat a small, fluffy, brown fur ball, which looked suspiciously like a rabbit. After a closer inspection, his jaw dropped.

"He just hopped over and made himself comfortable before I could move!"

"Are those antlers?"

"Yes sir." Her blond pony tail bobbed along with her head, "and just look at what he did to this!" She held up a metal bar, the teeth marks at one end for all to see.

"Did that thing gnaw through a steel bar?"

"Umm… yes?"

"Huh." Major Carl Lyle shook his head and walked back to his meal. _The things you see while in the SGC_, he mused to himself as he left the petite blond behind, stroking the now purring ball of fur and antlers.

**- - - - -**

"Sorry Floppy, you have to stay here," Lt. Hailey sadly told the small Jakalope that sat beside her at the gate. "The General probably won't let you live with us on Earth." With a quick pat on the head from Major Lyle, Lt. Hailey, Dr. Mykle Simms and Captain Riley Finn, SG-11 walk through the gate. They were all gonna miss Floppy. No one noticed a streak of brown darting forward.

**- - - - -**

"Catch it!" screamed Airmen Roy to one of the other officers in the Gate Room. Some one fired a zatt blast, only to be rewarded with a ball of fluffy tearing a _chunk_ out of the back of his thigh. Bullet ricochet and airmen dived, all the while Lt. Hailey was yelling out over and over, "don't hurt him"

**- - - - -**

"Alright SG-11, you can keep it." General O'Neill was getting two stitches over his left eye after clipping the edge of the Gate ramp while diving for "Floppy". Lt. Hailey looked over at Major Lyle and grinned.

"Thank you General, sir!" She hopped off her hospital bed with Floppy in her arms and headed for the door.

"Oh, Jennifer," he called tiredly after her, "SG-11 is responsible for it."

With a nod to him and the other seven patients, she hurried off to find Mykle and Riley. This was _so cool!_

**_-End-_**


	4. Rule 77

**Author:** **gothfeary** (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 22

**Series: **This is why we have Rules

**Rating:** K. Possibly K+ for implied explosions.

**Summery:** Rule 77) Stop trying to build lightsabers. a) Especially you Zelenkia. 100 words.

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N: **Look! It's a drabble!

- - - - -

"Tell me again what this is?" Dr. Weir bent down to examine the silver canister on her desk.

"It's a high powered laser beam," began Dr. Radek Zelenkia, "it is generated by the same power source as a Jaffa staff weapon, using something similar to a Goa'uld personal shield to contain and focus the laser into a beam, roughly three feet long and two inches in diameter."

"And you built this why?"

"Who wouldn't want a Lightsaber?"

"And this is the reason for the lab explosion?"

"Yes."

"Zelenkia, you need help."

How was she going to explain this to Earth?

_**-End-**_


	5. Rule 61

**Author:** **gothfeary** (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 61

**Series:** This is why we have Rules

**Rating: **T for some possible swearing, violence or explosions. 

**Summery:** Rule 61) If someone tells you to go get some sleep, do it. 450 words

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys! No actors were harmed in the making of this fic.

**A/N:** Alas, the evil mid-terms are upon me, and I have no time... I really should be studying, but my muse bit me, and the only wat to prevent infection is to write!

**- - - - -**

"Someone tell me why I just ordered a city-wide search to find Col. Sheppard?" demanded Dr. Weir.

"Well, Col. Sheppard had a reaction opposite to the normal side effect of the codeine in T3's," replied Beckett.

"Which is?"

"Hyper-activity," he plainly stated.

"And this warranted a city-wide search?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

"Not by itself," when Carson hesitated, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and sent him an icy glare.

"But when added to the fact that we believe he hasn't slept since he began taking the medication, it does."

"That was almost four days ago!" An exasperated sight escaped her as she turned to security station.

Pressing her fingertips to her ear, Dr. Weir spoke, "SGA-1, any luck yet?"

"Several personnel reported seeing Col. Sheppard in this area." Teyla replied.

"Keep me posted. Weir out."

"Be careful," Carson added into his own com, "John has reached the point where his mind will be unable to properly process what's going on."

A muffled reply was heard through the system as Rodney remarked, "And that's different from every other day, how?"

Ignoring Rodney, Carson went on, "despite the amount of energy he may appear to have."

"Understood Doctor." The determination in Ronon's voice almost made Carson pity John.

"Dr. Weir, take a look at this!" Sgt. Bates called her over to the display screen where he had been trying to track John. One light in the section Teyla and her team were searching had doubled back towards the gate room.

"Teyla, we think he's headed back here. Circle back around and cut him off."

Without a reply, three of lights changed direction, quickly doubling back around. Teyla, Rodney and Ronon, armed with Wraith stunners, entered the gate room and took up positions on the stairway leading up to the control room.

If it weren't for soundproof hallways and doors, they would have heard John coming long before he entered.

As the door slid open, a voice came through, singing very loudly.

"_We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine!_" Bare feet lightly slapping the ground, John jogged into view, oblivious to everyone staring.

"Great." Rodney muttered, "Now that song will be stuck in my head for weeks."

"_We all live in a yellow subma-_"

"Oh my," giggled Teyla, soon joined by more of the staff, as they took in his rumpled hair, the cast on his wrist and pink boxers with purple Farris Wheels. Stopping mid-submarine, John turned when he heard them. With a distracted goofy grin, he allowed Ronon to sneak up behind him.

Feeling a light tap on his shoulder, John turned.

"Good-night John," said Ronon, an instant before the blackness that came from Ronon's fist connecting with John's face.

_**-End-**_

**A/N 2:** You all know what to do! Hit the shiny button, because reviews are love, and I feel unloved!


	6. Rule 50

**Author: gothfeary** (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 50

**Series:** This is why we have Rules

**Rating:** K+ for minor violence.

**Summery:** Rule 50) The answer to a condescending Tok'ra is not "Sick em' Floppy!" 625 words.

**Spoilers:** Season 9 casting.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3 and Floppy. I own them, but I'll share with you guys! No actors were harmed in the making of this fic.

**A/N: **Apparently I didn't write enough yesterday… I woke up this morning to find my muse bite all swollen and turning a funny green-is/purple colour, and there is no way that can be good.

**Dedicated to: spacemonkey1129** , **turbomagnus** , and **Romulus Magnus **(I know it's not Kinsey, but still...)

- - - - -

Col. Carter stuck her head out of her office, ensuring that the hallways were clear. When she felt satisfied that no one was around, she crept back to the mini fridge she had installed in her lab (at the insistence of Janet, and her husband) and pulled out a Tupperware container. Popping it into the microwave (once again, installed at the insistence of Janet and Jack) she heated its contents slightly.

With her warm treasure in hand; she crept as silently down the hall as she could, towards Daniel's lab. Tapping softly on his door, she waited for her team to come out.

An instant later, out came Daniel, Teal'c and Cameron, all making as little noise as possible.

"Did you bring it?" asked Daniel in hushed tones.

"Yep, grade A prime cut." she replied, holding the container up for all to see.

"Let's get this show on the road," ordered Cameron, taking point.

Silently, SG-1 snuck down the thankfully empty halls towards the lab Lt. Jennifer Hailey worked in, and the lab where Floppy the Jakalope slept.

Opening the door, Cameron darted in, gesturing for the rest to follow him. Sam went right over to the small furry alien creature currently chewing on a piece of discarded metal piping. Making soft appreciative noises, she sat down and opened the container she brought with her. Floppy's noise twitched as he raised his head to sniff out what smelled so good. Sam reached over and pulled him into her lap. Daniel took the container from her and pulled out a long, thin strip of the finest New York steak available, cooked to a perfect rare. Offering it to Floppy, Daniel began murmuring soft words of praise when Floppy began purring happily, as he munched on his treat.

_**-Flashback-**_

Anise stood up from the table on which she, her host Freya, Lt. Hailey, Col. Samantha Carter, and Dr. Felger had spread out their work on adapting Ancient technology to use in an Alkesh. She looked over the work of the Tau'ri called 'Hailey' with distain.

"Your calculations are flawed." she plainly stated in the deep voice of the symbiote, "the formulas you used are incorrect."

Lt. Hailey looked up from her laptop and glaring at the taller woman, retorted, "Not if you take into account the existence of a pre-existing Goa'uld cloak."

"I highly doubt you took into consideration all the factors that would be associated with such a situation."

"Actually, I have. Now how about you do your work, and let me do mine?" the blond snapped.

"Please, Anise simply wishes to point out a potential mistake. Do not be offended." This was the host speaking, he voice mush softer, less full of contempt.

"That's alright, Freya." she sighed. _I'll never get used to this_, she thought to herself as she reached down to the floor to scratch behind Floppy's ears, "But if Anise had bothered to ask me what the biases of my calculations was, she would have seen that despite my 'limited scientific knowledge' I was actually correct."

Her eyes literally flashed in anger as Anise took control once more.

"These," she gestured sharply at work on the table, "is little more than the ramblings of an ignorant, arrogant and self-inflated child." she sneered condescendingly.

Lt. Jennifer Hailey lost it, just lost it. Turning her cold, hard and angry gaze on Anise she pointed at the Tok'ra.

"Sick em' Floppy!"

Floppy lunged, his teeth flashing briefly before clamping down on Anise's leg.

_**-End Flashback-**_

"I wish I could have seen that," moaned Daniel softly, "I'm so proud of you," he told Floppy as he fed him the last of the steak strips.

Scratching the little critter behind the ears, Teal'c replied in his usually stoic manner, "Indeed"

_**-End-**_

**A/N 2: **Well, would you look at that! My muse bite is no longer swollen, and is turning a normal skin-type colour! Now all that's left are two tiny little red pin prick-like marks... **Wait a sec, that's a bloody Vampire bite**! Oh _**crud...**_ Quick! I need reviews! Reviews are the only thing that can keep me from becoming one of the Un-Dead! So hit the shiny button that says 'GO' and save my immortal soul!


	7. Rule 140

**Author: gothfeary** (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** Rule # 140

**Series:** This is why we have Rules

**Rating:** T for talk of "mature" themes. (According to _some_ people drinking is a mature theme. **_WTF_**?) Oh, and two swear words.

**Summery:** Rule 140) Don't take Thor drinking.  
a) Or any other Aliens.  
b) Other than Teal'c, Bra'tac or Selmak/Jacob.

1335 word. (Yes I know, it's very long!)

**Spoilers:** Season 8 "Moebius.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3 and Floppy. I own them, but I'll share with you guys! No alcohol was abused in the making of this fic.

**A/N:** Well, thanks to you guys, I am now no longer among the impending Un-Dead. I really should be studying right now… but my anthropology text book is making me go cross-eyed, so yay for procrastination!  
(_thoughts or emphasis_)

- - - - -

"I can't believe we didn't do this years ago," exclaimed Sam with a sigh of contentment.

"Well, let's not dwell." Jack shot her a smug look that plainly said, I told you so. Samantha turned her attention back to the water just in time to see a fish leap out of the water.

"Didn't that video say there were no fish in you pond"

"Close enough," Jack replied lazily.

"That's the last of it," panted Daniel as he promptly dropped his end of the packed cooler he and Teal'c had carried down from the Black SUV at the end of the dock beside the rest of his team.

"Sweet!" Jack turned around and opened the green cooler eagerly. About to pull a Guinness out from the ice, Sam reached over and smacked his hand away.

"Wait for everyone else," she scolded. "They'll be here shortly. You can be patient." With an exaggerated pout, Jack pulled his hand away.

"Did they say when they were arriving O'Neill?" asked Teal'c as he unfolded a lawn chair of his own.

"The Prometheus should be dropping Dad, Jonas, Bra'tac, and the rest off within the hour. Thor should be coming any time." Sam answered.

"I can't believe you invited Thor to, in your words, a 'we just saved the universe, so let's get hammered' party." exclaimed Daniel.

"I just can't believe he accepted!"

"Well," Sam laughed, "he did say he wanted to learn more about human customs.

- - - - -

Samantha Carter was outside pulling the last of the lawn chairs out of Jack's shed while the men were inside trying to get all the food prepared, when a blinding white light caused her to shield her eyes. Looking at her watch, she noted exactly an hour had passed.

"Greeting Colonel Carter," Thor spoke in his normal soft tones, "It is good to see you are well."

"You too, Thor." She gestured back at the cabin with her left hand, "The rest of SG-1 is just inside."

"Have I arrived late?" he asked, tilting his head in a questioning gesture.

"No, the Prometheus just called in to say they'll be beaming everyone from the SGC down in 10 minutes. The guys are getting the food ready."

Thor nodded his thanks, "I believe I shall go and see if I may be of assistance in any manner." Suppressing a giggle at the mental image of Thor in an apron at the grill, she watched the small grey alien walk into the open kitchen. _This_, she though to herself, _should be an interesting night_.

By ten o'clock, the mid-summer sun was just dipping below the horizon, and the night was in full swing. Rya'c and his wife were seated at a small table deep in conversation with Cassie and (of all, 'people') John, who was also known as 'mini-Jack'. General Hammond, Jacob and Selmak were trading drinking songs by the campfire, and SG-2 was right in the middle of a drinking contest with Jonas.

"Alright Thor," said Jack, taking a seat across from the Supreme Commander with SG-1 in tow, "would you care to join us in one of Earth's oldest and proudest traditions?"

The twinkle in his eyes from all the booze was mirrored in Sam, Daniel, and for once Teal'c.

"Of course O'Neill. I am most curious." Thor was perched atop an empty cooler, as it was one of the only seats available that he could easily get up from.

"Sweet!"

Daniel proceed to set down the load he carried in his arms on the free surface of the cooler. Thor took in three 8 oz. glasses, a single shot glass and a black labelled bottle filled with an amber liquid.

"This," he proudly proclaimed, "is what we call Jack Daniels. And before you ask, it's not named after me and Daniel."

"One of the best whiskies out there," added Sam with a goofy grin.

Taking the bottle in his hand, Jack opened it, and began to pour. After filling the larger glasses to about three-quarters, he then poured the shot glass to the half mark.

"Since you're kinda small, I'm only giving you a half-shot," he explained, "and I'm giving the rest to Teal'c since it takes so damn much to get him trashed"

"Trashed?" Thor questioned.

"Drunk." replied Daniel.

"If this liquid causes intoxication, then why do you consume it?"

"Because some people enjoy the taste." Sam went on, throwing a look over at Feretti who had passed out on the ground after losing to Jonas, "or the whole point is to get drunk."  
"I see…" Thor sounded thoughtful. On one hand, he did not wish for his mental facilities to become impaired, yet on the other, he wished to experience this 'tradition.' Making up his mind, he picked up the shot glass in his slender fingers and waited for O'Neill to continue.

SG-1 exchanged evil grins, when they saw him take up his glass. Taking their own, or in Teal'c's case the bottle, Jack began.

"This is called a toast. It's to celebrate something important. In our case, saving the whole freaking universe." Turning to the blond next to him, "Carter, do you want to do the honours?"

"Yes sir!" with a mock salute, she stood up, drink in hand.  
"O'Neill, what is it I should be doing with this?"

"When we drink, you drink Thor." answered Daniel from his place next to him.  
"Not just sip; you drink the whole thing back."

Nodding his head, Thor spoke, "I understand"

Jack nodded to Carter, giving her the go-ahead.

Samantha Carter loudly cleared her throat, and the crowd slowly quieted down. After a moment or so, she spoke up.

"You all know why we're here celebrating tonight," her sure voice rising over the sounds of nature, "we are here to celebrate doing the impossible!" Cheers erupted from the partially drunk and very relaxed crowd. "We saved the fucking universe!" she hollered in sheer celebration, her voice carrying over the shouts, "Cheers!"

Picking up their drinks, almost as one everyone raised them before throwing back the last of their drinks. Thor watched with fascination as Col. Carter drank down the liquor in matter of seconds. Finding courage in her act, Thor put the small glass to his mouth and took the whole thing in a single sip.

As soon as he was able to get past the burning sensation that flooded him, Thor instantly noticed the planet seemed to be spinning much faster than he knew it should be...

- - - - -

It was ten a.m. the next day when Teal'c was finally able to stand without throwing up.

Sometime after eleven and two Aspirins, Daniel Jackson finally convinced the mariachi band in his head to stop playing so loudly.

Noon rolled around and Jack and Sam had yet to emerge from his bedroom.

By two p.m. everyone who had passed out at the cabin had been beamed back to Colorado Springs.

Everyone except SG-1, who were nursing their hang-overs, and trying to take care of a still drunk Thor, the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. After spending the rest of the day in front of Jack's television watching a drunken Thor sit through every season of 'The Simpson' with rapt fascination, SG-1 sighed with relief when he finally passed out on the couch.

"We are so screwed when we get back!" moaned Daniel as he cradled his head in his hands.

Jack walked out of his bed room where he had taken a call on his cell phone, "Oh, it gets better." The sarcasm practically dripped from his words.

"How?" asked Sam, dreading the answer.

"Seems the Asgard High Council expected Thor back this morning to begin rebuilding Othalla." Daniel went pale, and Teal'c looked like he might vomit again. "Seems they spoke with Hammond _and_ the President this morning."

"Scratch being screwed, Daniel." began Sam.

"They would like to have a few words with us when we get back tomorrow." Jack finished.

"We're **_fucked_**." she finished.

_**-End-**_

**A/N 2:** I know it's really long, especially compaired to the last few, but I just didn't feel comfortable shortening it anymore. I thought this one actually required a bit of a plot. As, I feel that Thor isn't just the sort to say "Hey, I think I'll go ghet drunk!" He would need a really good reason, and like any good reason there is a long story behind it! I hope I didn't bore you. So let me know, and click the shiny review button.

_-Kat_


	8. Rule 76

**Author**: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title**: Rule # 76

**Series**: This is why we have Rules

**Rating**: K. Absolutely no naughty business at all… but maybe next time!

**Summery**: Rule 76) "Donald Where's your Trousers?" by the Dust Rhinos is not to be sung off-world.  
825 words.

**Spoilers**: None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3 and Floppy. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N**: For those of you who live in the Manitoba, Canada area you might just want to know that The Dust Rhinos are playing here in Winnipeg at a local Irish pub on Saturday, October 21st at 10 p.m. (See their website for details) So show up, and look for the brunette in the green tee shirt out on the dance floor, that'll be me!

- - - - -

Colonel Blair McEnvoy paced the briefing room, much to the annoyance of Captain Cameron Jackson and Lieutenant David Hebert. The two looked on from their seats at the conference table, as their C.O. slowly but surely attempted to wear down the floor in front of the viewing window that looked down into the gate room. They were waiting for General Landry; the team would finally be getting a new civilian specialist, probably another linguist or cultural anthropologist.

The door opened, and General Landry walked in. SG-3's eyes went immediately to the body that followed him. They were greeted by chocolate eyes, partially hidden under fawn coloured bangs and a confidant grin.

"SG-3, meet your new member, Dr. Marie Brown, linguist and archaeologist." The young woman in question stepped out from behind the General, and offered her hand to Col. McEnvoy.

"Hi." her grasp was firmer than he would have expected, letting him know she would be different from all the other newbie civies; she would be able to handle herself right from the start.

"Well," said the General, heading back out the door, "I'll leave you all to get acquainted. Oh, and SG-3, Dr. Brown will be the only member of your team authorized to carry grenades." With that, he left a very confused linguist staring at her very red new team mates.  
- - - - -  
PR2-655, two days later.

SG-3 had been assigned a routing first contact as a warm-up first mission for Dr. Brown, giving them a chance to get a new team dynamic worked out. SG-3 had been impressed with the way Dr. Brown handled the first meeting, winning the trust and respect of the chief and the head priestess. In fact, things went over so well, they were even allowed to look at and translate the sacred tablets, much to the joy of Dr. Brown when she discovered they were left behind by the Ancients.

Roughly five or so hours before the local chief Gealen and the priestess Brigit were to come to their camp to collect the tablets, Marie found herself enjoying a quick meal of soup and bread, which was apparently about as good as the food got when they were off world. Finishing her meal, she pushed back from the portable table with a sigh.

"Well, I'm gonna go throw some music on my laptop. I hate trying to translate in a quiet place." Popping the last of her bread into her mouth, she set her empty bowl to the side for Cameron to wash (it being his turn to clean up after the meal), and went back over to the flat rock where her computer sat. After a moment, and a few clicks of the mouse, the throaty voice of a singer accompanied by what sounded like violins and an acoustic guitar was heard.

_"Well I've just come down from the island sky,  
I'm awful big and I'm not too shy.  
Ladies shout as I pass by, 'Donald where's your trousers?'  
Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low.  
Through the streets in a kilt I'll go.  
All the lassies say 'Donald where's your trousers!'"_

She began singing along the fast paced Celtic style music as she settled herself comfortably on the ground with her notes and the stone tablets.

Curious about the music they heard, the rest of the team soon found themselves asking more about the band, and asking to hear more of the music. "Donald where's your trousers?" soon became a team favourite.

SG-3 was so wrapped up in their respective work, all the while singing along to the music, they failed to notice Gealen and Brigit when they arrived. They stood silently observing the group as they sang, even if it was off-key.

"What is it you sing?" Gealen questioned, finally speaking after the song had ended.

"This is a group from my home called 'The Dust Rhinos'." Replied a stunned Marie, "They play a kind of music known as 'Celtic rock'. I believe you would enjoy it."

The Priestess Brigit, who until now had been silent, took in the words and asked, "What is a 'kilt'?"

"It's a piece of patterned cloth that is worn pinned around the waist, coming down just past a persons knees. Different patterns represent different families, or 'clans' and is worn by both men and women."

"And your people wear this garment?" Marie, who had begun carefully packing up the tablets in the soft animal skins they had been wrapped in, answered with out thinking.  
"Yes. Actually, they are quite comfortable and liberating."

"Why?" Gaelen asked, confused. For the Tau'ri were clearly all wearing pants. Yet the scholar claimed they did not usually.

Marie suddenly realised just what it is she had said. "Oh, crap." Turning to Col. McEnvoy, she said "I think I'm gonna need some more time here to clear this up." With a sigh, she began trying to figure out how she could fix this.

**_-End-_**

**A/N 2:** Reviews make me smile, so hit the button and tell me how much you like this one. I'm not too sure if it's any good, but I figured I had best introduce all of SG-3 since they tend to be the cause of some of the 'dumber' rules.


	9. Rule 2

**Author**: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title**: Rule # 2

**Series**: This is why we have Rules

**Rating**: K. Sorry, no naughty stuff this time around!

**Summery**: Rule **2) Do NOT piss off the female staff during a base wide lock down.**

**a) OR during that "Time of the Month.**

337 words.

**Spoilers**: "48 hours."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3 and Floppy. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N**: You know this is true. And don't hate me for the McKay bashing! I really love Rodney, and not just because he's Canadian! (That's just the icing on the really hot scientist... oops, bad thoughts there. Sorry!)

- - - - -

Samantha Carter was _**not**_ a happy camper. To say she was having a bad day was an understatement. A _**very**_ big one.

She woke up to the sound of a cold, steady rain hitting her window. She swore violently when she finally realized her chance to test out the new modifications she and Siler had made last night in her garage, was shot.

Then she got stuck in traffic, after having to take her car. She couldn't find a decent radio station. She was twenty minutes late for the mission briefing.

Then the mission itself! Bad didn't even _**come close**_ to an understatement. After coming under enemy fire, they had to run back through the gate. Only Teal'c never came through. He was missing, his pattern lost in the gate buffer. Possibly irretrievably. No she couldn't, _wouldn't,_ let herself believe it.

Now, she only had just less than 48 hours to pull a miracle out of no where to save him before the President ordered them to resume gate travel. All because he believed that worm she now had to work with, McKay.

And to top it all off, it was _**"that time"**_.

Yep. Samantha Carter was having a bad day.

Samantha Carter had just left McKay alone in her lab, needing more coffee and a break from the grating sound of his voice. Walking back, full coffee pot in one hand, her physics text book in the other, she found herself longing for a bottle of Aspirin and the chocolate bar she kept in her top drawer for occasions just like this.

Opening her door, she stopped. There in the grubby little hand of that slime bag, was the _last_ piece of her milk chocolate salvation.

"Damn it McKay!" she screamed at him, "That was my last chocolate bar!"

"I'm hypoglycemic," he retorted smugly, as he popped the last piece into his mouth. "I needed it more than you did."

Samantha saw red.

Rodney, on the other hand, saw a text book flying at his head.

_**-End-**_


	10. Rule 41

**Author**: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)

**Title:** # 41

**Series:** This is why we have Rules.

**Rating:** T. As in "T" is for Torture! (Oh, the things we learn from Sesame Street)

**Summery:** Rule #41) If you are captured by a female Goa'uld, don't ask her if her pimp knows where she is.  
700 words

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N:** This one is dedicated to **HK-Revan** who asked to see this one. So I figured I, "why not brighten up someones day?" And since the Evil Duo of Cleo and Floppy have been staring at me menancingly, I'm posting this now out of fear for my safety. Because my muse and my evil original character have formed a very scary alliance... and well, I think they may be prone to violence. _-rubs healed vampire-muse bit from last week-_

- - - - -

"Jaffa! Kree!" A tall, slender woman had draped herself gracefully across the raised platform of elegant silk throw pillows, her long raven coloured hair cascading down over her shoulders to pool on the bright fabric. Her face veil was semi-translucent delicate black silk, the best quality her slaves could weave. The tiny diamonds in the elaborate embroidery winked softly as it fluttered slightly when she once again raised her unnatural voice. "Bring the captive Tau'ri to me." She ordered her First Prime, who had come running when she called.

Almost immediately, four chained men were brought before her; bloody, beaten and bruised. SG-7 was brutally thrown to the floor in from of her diesis, their Jaffa captors backing away immediately.

Her dark kohl lined eyes flashed as she stood up and walked slowly towards her new play things, her black wispy skirt softly whispering. Kali would enjoy breaking these men. Reaching out her right hand, she forced the chin of the man her Jaffa had told her was the leader up, so she could look him in the eyes. Col. Ryan Hunter hissed slightly in pain as he felt the gold finger tips of a hand device bite into his tender flesh.

"So you are the leader of these men? Pitiful." She sneered, her full lips coming up in a slight snarl beneath her veil. "I had heard the Tau'ri were formidable warriors, it seems I was misinformed," the malice was plain in her voice.

Col. Ryan looked her up and down; taking in the long skirt that sat low on her hips, the matching pitiful excuse for a top (basically nothing more than a black bra) and the gaudy silver chains which hung from it, clinking softly as she breathed. The dozens of thin, tacky bracelets she wore on her left hand rattled as she brought it up to gently caress the patch on his arm. With a sneer of his own Ryan met her eyes. And, to the amusement of his team mates, calmly asked her, "Does your pimp know where you are?"

Fuming as her prisoners let out hysterical laughter, she swiftly back-handed Col. Ryan. Turning her icy glare on his second in command Major Dominic 'Dom' Tanner, she raised the hand device and demanded, "You will tell what exactly a 'pimp' is."

"Why?" he asked in fake innocence. Pain ripped through his body, his every nerve screaming as Kali used her hand device.

"I am a God. You will obey my commands," she snarled over the twitching body at her feet. "Fine," he gasped when she finally stopped. "Back on Earth, some men illegally 'own' certain kinds of women."

"What kinds?" she raised the device again, reminding him what awaited him should he fail to tell her. From next to the Major, Lieutenant Frank Green answered smugly,

"Whores." With a furious shriek, Kali let lose an energy blast that knocked SG-7 unconscious. Red faced with rage, Kali looked to her First Prime. "You will bring me the tools I will need for an interrogation."

"Yes, Mistress." With that, the hurried from her sight, relived that he would not be on the receiving end of her wraith.

- - - - -

It was almost three pain filled hours before a battered SG-7 heard the sounds of gun-fire and staff blasts. "Calvary's here boys." Major Dom said through clenched teeth. Every nerve in his body felt raw.

"You're going down now, bitch." Hissed Captain Stone, causing the blood from his split lip to drip down onto his stained shirt. The gun fire was closer now, the staff blasts less frequent. Kali looked to the rings at the other end of the room, and back to SG-7.

"You will pay for your impudence one day," she spat. Crossing the room swiftly, she pushed a sequence in on the wall control panel. Just as the first ring rose up around her, Col. Ryan called out to her, "Tell you pimp we said 'thanks for the free ride'!" His voice was light and carefree, as though he didn't have several broken ribs and wasn't bleeding internally.

SG-6 and SG- 12 burst into the room, just in time to hear her outraged scream as she disappeared.

**_-End-_**

**A/N 2:** Well campers, it's Friday once again, And so that means I expect a nice stack of reviews waiting for me in my in-box come Sunday night! So hit the pretty button and do your civic duty!


	11. Rule 126

**Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)**

**Title:** # 126

**Series:** This is why we have Rules

**Rating: K+. **For the mention of bras and panties and naked men.

**Summery:** Rule 126) Would the female staff please refrain from raiding the men's locker room for towels.

a) You want us doing it to you?

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate, but I do own the stupid situations I put these poor characters into! Oh, and SG-3. I own them, but I'll share with you guys!

**A/N:** Yes, I know I have not updated in god only knows how long. I had wicked mad writers block. Still do, so if this sucks you know why. I actually think my muses may have gone on strike... which can only lead to trouble. I bet they are off in like, Hawaii getting trashed on fruity coconut drink, leaving me here all alone, uninspired and cold!

705 words

- - - - -

Dr. Marie Brown gratefully stripped off her dusty, sandy fatigues with a sigh of contentment. Tossing the disguarded garments over her shoulder into the hamper, she muttered to the Major beside her, "I hate sandy planets!"

With a laugh, Major Kelly reached over and picked up a large white towel off the rack beside the showers. "Don't we all?" she asked as she headed for the relief of a hot shower.  
Marie, now clad only in a pair of black panties and matching bra, reached over for a towel of her own, only to realise Kelly had just taken the last one.

"Shit!" she cursed quietly to herself. SG-3 and SG-13 had just come back from a desert planet training mission and she really needed a shower. A slow grin spread across her lips when she thought of the perfect way to get herself a fresh towel. Quickly, she made her way across the women's locker room to the door that led out into the hallway. The same hallway that the men's locker room next door led out into.

Poking her head out the door, she checked to make sure no one was coming. Satisfied that no one was coming she darted out and pulled open the door next to hers. The voices of her team around the corner echoed through the room as she quietly closed the door behind her. Grinning like mad, Marie held her head high as she started towards the laughing men.

- - - - -

"God, I had nearly pissed myself laughing by the end of that last exercise!" Cameron said as he pulled his shirt up over his head.

"What?" asked Dave as he walked into the men's shower room, "when Marie finally got pissed off with Dixon's 'I'm the man, so I'm in charge' crap and told him off? Or when she shot him with her intar?"

"All of it!" Blair called out over the sound of running water. He kicked off his boots before stripping down to his boxers. Cam continued laughing as he picked up a towel to wrap around himself.

"No it wasn't!" Col. Dixon told them hotly from the row of lockers on the row behind Blair, "it was insubordination!"

Dave stuck his head back out, soap dripping from the visible part of his chest to make a snide remark right as Marie came out from around the corner.

"Hey guys." she casually said as her eyes searched out an unused towel. "Got any extra towels?" she asked.

There was a flurry of movement as Cam dived for his towel to wrap around his naked body. Blair practically ripped open his locker in an effort to use the small door to cover himself. Dave luckily just had to step forward, the walls dividing the showers from the rest of the room offering him full protection.

"Marie! What the hell?" exclaimed her commander, as he took in the fact that she was wearing almost no cloths herself and that she was standing in the men's locker room.  
"Just needed a towel," she calmly told him, with a sunny smile. Spotting his large, clean white towel on the bench she snatched it up. "Thanks!" With another cheeky grin she walked away, her fluffy prize clutched tightly in her arms.

The rest of her team watched her leave, stunned by what just happened. As he watched the black underwear-clad form walk around the corner, Cam finally found his voice when he heard the soft slapping of her feet die away. "Well, that was random."

"Gotta admire her guts though." Dave added from his hiding spot as they heard the door close shut.

Col. Dixon came around the corner, a confused look on his face. "Did I just see Dr. Brown leave with a towel in her underwear"

"Yeah." Blair shook his head and stepped out from behind the meagre cover of his locker door.

Suddenly, they all heard the locker room door open again. "Hey Cammy-boy," Marie called out using the nickname she had give Cameron Jackson, "by the way, nice side arm!" With a giggle Marie walked back to the women's locker room. The looks on her team mates faces when she walked in would keep her smiling for months.

**_-End-_**

**A/N 2:** Well, my work here is done. But yours is not! So hit the button and review!


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